


Downtown at the Boston Office

by Soquilii9



Category: Leverage
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 19:04:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1754763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soquilii9/pseuds/Soquilii9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>FIclet based on Leverage</p>
            </blockquote>





	Downtown at the Boston Office

**DOWNTIME AT THE BOSTON OFFICE**  
A ficlet By Soquilii  
Rated Mature for language

**It's downtime.**

**Three-fifths of the Leverage team are lounging around the briefing room, watching football, snacking on popcorn, sipping beer and orange soda.**

Hardison, catching popcorn in his mouth:  
Been a while since our last job.

Parker, watching the game, bored:  
Yup.

Eliot, engrossed in the game, beer at the ready:  
Any prospects on the horizon?

Hardison sips orange soda:  
I haven't heard of any...'course, Nate brings 'em in.

Eliot tips beer to his lips; his eyes never leave the screen:  
Usually...

Parker frowns, chomping popcorn:  
Where is Nate, anyway?

Eliot, annoyed:  
Downstairs in the bar.

Hardison, equally annoyed:  
Crap.

Eliot, resigned:  
Yeah.

**They watch the game for a few minutes. Eliot's team isn't doing well. His frown deepens into a scowl.**

Hardison retrieves a Hot Pocket from the microwave:  
OK, where's Sophie?

Parker chirps:  
Out shopping...for shoes…clothes…I don't understand.

Eliot, irked:  
 _I_ do, Parker, and I'm a _guy,_ for crissake...

Parker interrupts Eliot:  
Then why...

Eliot interrupts Parker:  
...never mind, if you don't get it I can't explain it!

Hardison, placating:  
It's a girl thing, Parker, you'll understand one day.

Parker relates a story:  
Girl thing. Huh. Must be like this woman I overheard on a street corner, waiting for the light to change...talking to her friend...she was upset because her doctor didn't make her chest as big as her husband wanted. What's up with stuff like that anyway.

Hardison:  
See, now, Parker, there you go; that's girl stuff, and something like that can be lucrative. We can find jobs on our own; just gotta keep our eyes and ears open. Sounds like a client to me...

Eliot, growling:  
Yeah, we can call it _The Boob Job._

**Hardison rolls his eyes. Parker slumps on the sofa, sulking. In walks, or, to be more accurate, stumbles Nate. Very inebriated. Eliot casts a quick glance back at him, then resumes his worship at the altar of football. He's pissed for three reasons now: Nate in his condition; the New England Patriots are not having a good day; and he's got money riding on them.**

Eliot, after a boneheaded play:  
Come _on!!_

Hardison:  
Just how much money did you put on the game, anyway?

Eliot:  
Two grand.

Hardison, disbelieving, shaking his head:  
Seriously?! Seriously!! _Man...._

Parker, whining:  
I'm _bored._ I wanna go steal something.

Nate, hammered:  
You guys wanna go ta work?

Hardison, only slightly interested:  
Whatcha got?

Eliot, resentful:  
He ain't got _nothin'_ man - best he sobers up first.

Hardison, coming to Nate's defense:  
Hey, Nate, man, he done _plenty_ jobs wasted...

Nate:  
Are you tryin' tell me you don' wanna work 'til I sober up?

Eliot, sarcastic to the max:  
 _Now_ you're gettin' it.

Nate leaves the room, voice fading as he goes:  
Well…all right then...

**The door opens and Sophie breezes in, arms ladened with packages and bags.**

Sophie, excited:  
Parker, _look!! What a sale! Everything_ was marked down!

**Sophie parks her many packages on the bar, paper rustles, she begins unwrapping it all.**

Sophie, encouragingly:  
Parker, come see...

**Sophie picks up on the atmosphere. She stops, hands holding bags in mid-air, and glances from face to face.**

Sophie, perplexed:  
Did somebody...die?

Hardison gives her a hard stare:  
Go ask Nate.

**The game is over, Eliot's team lost; he's out two grand.**

Eliot, pissed:  
 _Fuck!_

**Eliot rays the TV off and throws the remote on the couch. He storms out, grumbling under his breath. Parker chirps her brand of comments as she goes through Sophie's purchases, holding them up, item by item.**

Parker…well…being Parker:  
So. What do you wear with these...what color is that. How do you walk in a heel this thin…I don't like this blouse...you didn't buy anything black?

Sophie, initially irritated with Parker for criticizing her choices:  
They're not for _you_ , Parker!

**Parker looks crushed.**

Sophie, relenting:  
Oh, Parker...I'm sorry...listen, let's play dress-up another time, all right? I'm suddenly very tired.

**Sophie leaves the room. Parker smirks at being alone, grabs a bag of pigskins and chomps them while she searches the channel for something SHE likes.**

The End


End file.
